


Sea Salt Garnish

by lovehugsandcandy



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 00:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: my entry to the tumblr Margarita prompt





	1. Chapter 1

In addition to being an tattoo artist, Amazonian warrior, and sweetheart extraordinaire, Ximena could make a mean margarita.

“This is amazing.” Ellie couldn’t help but take another sip. She had never tasted anything like this, never touched alcohol before, but, like everything in her new world, it was dangerous and addictive and consuming.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Logan pulled the cup from her hand, placing it on the table. “Slow down there!”

Mona scoffed and pulled the lime from her mouth. “Let the girl have her fun.” Then, without a shred of hesitation, she threw back the shot in front of her as Ellie watched, eyes wide.

Because of course Mona was taking the tequila straight. Toby preferred his margaritas from the blender, mixed with a generous serving of strawberry, while Logan’s was on the rocks, layer of salt around the rim. Ellie liked all of it, stealing tiny sips of everyone else’s, but Colt had abstained with a roll of his eyes.

She sauntered over to him, sitting behind the pool table, and leered. Apparently booze did make you brave.

He only raised his eyebrows. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I only had like five sips. Why aren’t you drinking?”

His eyes darkened as he considered her before pulling her hips towards him, voice dark. “Maybe I just have different vices.”

She couldn’t stop the intake of breath as his hands traveled under her shirt, a teasing caress of his hands that stopped when his thumbs slid underneath the elastic of her bra, slow circles that made her nerves sing.

They stayed like that for a moment, maybe two, Ellie caught in his eyes and his touch as the rest of the room ceased to exist.

“Meet me downstairs. Three minutes.” With one last, pointed look, he stood and made his way to the door. If Ellie hadn’t been watching him so closely, she would have missed how his confident fingers pilfered something from the table as he sauntered out the door.

Later, much later, after Ellie fixed her hair and tried to pull herself together, after they both snuck back into the break room, Ximena asked an innocent question that stopped Ellie in her tracks.

“Where’d the sea salt go?” She had three glasses in front of her, ready to pour another round, quizzical look on her face.

Ellie could feel her face start to burn; this heat was definitely not from the alcohol.

Colt chuckled, eyes traveling down Ellie’s body, pausing to eye the spots where she could still feel the flat of his tongue licking up the patterns he drew.

“I think I saw it.” He slid by Ellie as he walked out of the room, her body lighting up at the contact chest brushing her arm and voice low in her ear as he whispered, “I guess I found another one of my vices.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ellie watched Colt walk out of the room, almost swaggering, smug as always. Her eyes narrowed.

She looked over the margarita table, quickly, formulating a plan.  _Sorry, Logan_. A quick flick of her wrist and down it went, covering the table in booze and ice.

“Oh no, sorry!” Her gaze darted around the room as Toby and Logan jumped to get paper towels. No one was paying attention to her in the commotion and she slid her prize into her pocket. “I am so clumsy, I’m so so sorry.”

Ximena started grabbing her supplies again. “No worries, sweetie. I can make a new one in 30 seconds.”

She backed away from the table, edging towards the door. “Ok, well, you know, I’m just gonna…go…help Colt.”

Mona snorted, loudly, as Toby looked up from wiping the table. “What? With what?”

“Well Toby,” Mona smiled devilishly, “when two people are hooking up on the low-”

Ellie didn’t wait to hear another word and ran out of the room.

Colt was just opening the door when she made it there, eyes wide and confused as she pushed him backwards, without a word. She kept moving, hand splayed on his chest, walking him until his legs hit the bed and he fell back with a soft exhale. Ellie climbed on top so she could straddle him and grinned, trying to look predatory and sexy and mimic the smirk Colt gave her that made her weak in the knees.

“Aw, you look like a chipmunk when you pout like that.” 

“What?” She cuffed his chest. “You look like a…like a…” Somehow, ‘dangerous sexy criminal car thief’ was the only thing coming to mind.

“You sure you’re not drunk?” His hand had edged up her shirt, thumb tracing her stomach and making it hard to focus.

“I think you managed to fuck all the liquor out of me.”

He smiled, a quirk of the lips to match the heat in his eyes. “Well, I’ve also been trying to fuck the sass out of you but I haven’t been successful.”

She only glared at him before capturing his lips, reveling in the feel of his lips and tongue, his hands sure on her back. She loved this, his lips on hers, nowhere else to be but here, nothing else to think about or stress over but how to remove clothing in the most expeditious way possible.

She was pulling her shirt over her head, his hands helping her arms from the sleeves, when she remembered. “Uh uh, your shirt, too. Now.”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow but definitely wasn’t going to complain, shifting to pull the t-shirt over his head, movement jostling their hips and making him hiss. Ellie rolled her hips, slowly, and thanked the Lord for the quick refractory period of boys who thought they were men. He felt so good, underneath her, a preview of how well they fit together, how well he felt in her when there were no clothes, no layers, nothing in between them.

Shaking her head, she looked down to study the planes of his chest, running her fingers down the defined muscles.  _How does this work?_ She thought back, to Colt and the salt, a teasing lick for moisture and then a sprinkle from the jar, a design, her inability to stop moaning as he traced the lines down her neck, her breasts, her stomach, and finally lower until she forgot all about salt and margaritas and tequila and could only remember his name rolling off her tongue.  _Nope_. She blinked to clear the image from her brain.  _Focus_.

She bent down and traced the first letter with her tongue, then reaching in her pocket.

“What do you have?” He was craning his neck to see what she had in her hands.

“I told you, I don’t like salt, it’s gross.”

“Definitely not gross when I’m licking it off your-”

“Ahem.” She pushed him back down. “I swiped the sugar concoction. It’s pink.” She sprinkled a bit onto his chest, carefully; it didn’t need to be perfect, would probably be faster if she wrote multiple letters at once.

“Will my masculinity ever recover? Does it at least compliment my skin tone?”

“And you complain about my sass…” She knelt again, a longer trace of her tongue, then carefully ran the sugar through her fingers. And again, and again, over and over, filling his chest with careful pink lines over his skin. She watched the muscle twitch and move under her, especially as she was tracing delicate swirls on his abs, the abs she could visualize without trying after spending so much time mapping every inch, every cut.

“Are you writing a college essay? Jesus.” His hand had come up to grip her hip, holding her in place as he swiveled beneath her in slow circles.

“Almost done.” She finished the last bit and sat back on her heels. It wasn’t her best penmanship, but she could just make it out.  _Nice_. She bit her lip, kneeling down to finally lick it all off.

“Whoa.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “What does it say?”

She couldn’t stop the smirk from splitting her face. “Property of Ellie.” She chuckled, admiring her handiwork again, but the smile died, falling off her face when she looked at him again.

He was staring at her, eyes wide, mouth open, no grin, just looking at her.

Crap. They had never really talked about…. She didn’t mean it like…. “Colt, it was just a-”

She couldn’t even finish her sentence before he surged off the bed to kiss her, wildly, desperately, arms circling her back to pull her flush against him. She could feel the sugar, gritty, sliding between them, roughness teasing her breasts, her stomach, falling onto the bed like rain. 

Finally, he pulled back. “Does this mean I can write ‘Property of Colt’ on you?”

“You can write it in sharpie for all I care.”

“But sharpie doesn’t taste as good.” He ducked his head to lick a patch of pink off Ellie’s chest, tongue trailing to caress her nipple, picking up some granules off the bed to trail them between her breasts. “And I’m not gonna let this sugar go to waste.”


End file.
